Never Enough
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: Clay watches Kimiko push herself to be perfect. [ClayKim, oneshot, complete.]


Author's Note: Yet another piece I've written at one in the morning… creativity likes to rob me of my sleep. Well, tell me if it's okay, I've never really written anything for Clay OR Kimiko before, and this explores their hidden sides, so this may look out of character… sorry.

Pairing: Clay/Kimiko

Fluff: Moderate

Rating: K plus

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Fire is an element powered by passion.

Kimiko was sure to make it look like hers was a happy passion. And some days it was; when comforting Omi or playing idly with Raimundo, her passion for life returned. She gave everything her all, with a flair that made people question her logic. The other monks at the Temple thought she was like all fire Dragons before her; full of passion for existence and joy at fighting.

No one suspected the darker motivation.

Then again, no one knew about her life pre-Temple. No one knew about the way the other children would tease her, the way they would throw every failure back at her until the fear of making mistakes was constant. No one knew about the time Kimiko had been beat up, beat down, beat in every competition imaginable. Everything in her life had been one long failure that she hadn't been able to shake. No one knew, but every day she'd taken the taunts, the jeers, and the laughs, passion was building.

For hatred, although not endorsed by the Xiaolin, was a kind of passion as well.

No one knew how much going to the Temple meant to her. A fresh start, a new day, and finally, some freedom. It was the chance of a lifetime to channel that passion into something pure, something hot, something that would make others stop and stare in awe. Kimiko knew that it wasn't right to be so angry, but she didn't care. She used it; used the images burned into her mind from years past to fuel her fire. No one knew that beneath that smile lay the memories of a hundred pains, a hundred betrayals, and a hundred scarring words.

How could they? She fought back speaking of the past. Even with Omi, she wove a web of lies, leaving out any bad memories or bad things that had ever happened to her. She told him of Tokyo and the people everywhere and the noise and the rush and of all the things there were to buy. She did not mention the drugs that someone offered her in fifth grade, or the time a boy from her class shot four of her friends down in a school shooting when she was twelve. Kimiko kept the anger and hatred buried where it couldn't hurt anyone else. They could never know what it was like. She didn't want them to pity her.

Day after day, each flame was a reminder that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't forget her past. Each shot of the Star of Hanabi further proved to her that she wasn't worthless. She was the Dragon of Fire. She was strong. No one could defeat her. She was part of a specially selected team of Warriors. Each opponent knocked down boosted her up. She could fight now. She was strong.

Yet deep inside, late at night, the words and the blows would come crashing back into her mind. Gunshots rang in her head. Images of a hundred things she'd rather forget crept up on her. She couldn't escape. Each night she questioned how much she'd changed, how strong she was. The answer was not enough. She needed to be faster, stronger, smarter, nicer, better…

Clay watches and knows it will never be enough.

He sees it in her eyes, her behavior. She wants to be fantastic, extraordinary on levels almost super human. Nothing will ever be enough for her. Every step forward may as well be a step back. She wants more than power, more than grace, more than she can get. She wants perfection. Kimiko tries not to make mistakes. She tears herself up for it when she does.

Clay doesn't know what happened. He can only support her, try and eliminate those flashes of hatred that creep into her eyes sometimes. He sympathizes with her, gives her tips, encouragement. He knows that being there if she falls will only mess her up further, so he lets her fall from grace when the time comes. There's only so much he can do.

He wonders why.

Why does Kimiko balk from talking about her friends at home? Is it because she doesn't have any to speak of? Why does she get that horribly pained look on her face when Jack's robots aim their guns at Omi? How does she manage to keep so much inside? It can't be healthy. Clay knows this without question. He sees her destroy herself each time she fails, each time she doesn't win a fight.

Kimiko is her own worst critic.

One night, when it's stormy and dark and utterly peaceful, she goes outside to get some fresh air and clear her head. A nightmare woke her up; the memories of some unnamable fight she lost in kindergarten, one of the many ones where she limped home instead of walked. The warm air brushes against her cheeks, but doesn't derail her train of thought. She should have won that fight. Over the years she's grown bitter about it, knowing full well that she could have won if she hadn't been so stupid. What was she thinking?

As tears threaten to leak from her eyes, she hears a voice. Her head snaps up, blue eyes wide as Clay smiles at her.

"You look a little sad there, partner," he whispers. "Anything I can do to help?"

She wanted to tell him no, nothing was wrong. He wouldn't understand – Earth is a totally different element, and he was from Texas, not Japan like her. But instead of dismissing everything like she always does, she lets out a sob and clings to him. Everything is just too much to take. Fire is a passionate element, not a closed one. Kimiko knows she looks stupid now; not strong, not cool. She flinches and tries to pull away and get herself under control before the damage is irreversible.

Clay takes her hand and pulls her close. "Go ahead, Kimiko. Let it out."

She looks at him dangerously. "If you ever tell anyone…" but the threat can't even be finished. She's too busy trying to cry quietly, with dignity, as the gravity of it all rushes down upon her. She is not perfect. She will never be perfect. "I want to be perfect," she wails softly, not knowing she'd said it aloud.

Clay wipes away her tears and replies gently, "No one is. But you're the closest I've ever seen."

She closed her eyes wearily, unable to accept being the closest to perfect. Every flaw, every error had horrific consequences for her. No one else knew what it was like to have everything they'd done wrong thrown in their face for years at a stretch. She couldn't help the anger rising in her chest. No one understood, no one in the world.

Clay sighs and rubs her back, knowing ultimately that it will never be enough.


End file.
